


Look At The Two Of Us

by zuotian



Series: Kenman Week 2018 [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Dialogue Heavy, Domestic, M/M, Nosebleed, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-02 23:36:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16796956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zuotian/pseuds/zuotian
Summary: Cartman and Kenny sit out a convoluted scheme in favor of a simple night in. Simple for them, at least.





	Look At The Two Of Us

**Author's Note:**

> ALL CHARACTERS AND EVENTS IN THIS FANFICTION—EVEN THOSE BASED ON A REAL SHOW—ARE ENTIRELY GRATUITOUS. ALL CANONICAL DIALOGUE IS IMPERSONATED ... POORLY. THE FOLLOWING FANFICTION CONTAINS COARSE LANGUAGE AND DUE TO ITS CONTENT IT SHOULD NOT BE READ BY ANYONE.
> 
> [Kenman Week Day One: "Just the two of us."]

Kenny set off with Cartman, Kyle and Stan after school expecting to play video games at Stan’s house. They all piled into Stan’s pickup and went out to the Marsh farmstead. But just as they sat down on the couch, Stan’s dad came in and hijacked the TV to put on the news.

Randy exclaimed at what he saw. “Aw - what the hell!”

Stan scowled, as the other three boys glanced at each other. “We were about to play Fortnite, Dad,” Stan protested.

“This is more important,” Randy said. He stepped aside and pointed at the screen. “Look at what they’re doing to these poor people at the border!”

The newscaster said onscreen, “Canada’s nuked economy is bouncing back after an unprecedented, nationwide legalization of pot.”

“Shit,” Kyle said, remembering his ill-fated crusade which resulted in nuclear warfare.

“They’ll get what’s coming to them,” Cartman scoffed. “A bunch of stoned socialists - what could go wrong,” he asked, sarcastically.

The newscaster continued, “But now Canadian travelers are being detained at the American border and screened for THC. A migdet in a bikini has more on the story.”

The TV then cut to a snowy road lined with hotboxed cars. Some drivers rolled down their windows to look out at the traffic jam ahead, smoke billowing out behind them.

“Thanks, Tom,” the midget in a bikini said. “I’m a midget in a bikini here at the Canadian-American border where caravans of stoned Canadians are being denied access account of being high as hell...”

Randy crossed his arms and turned back to his son. “Do you know what this means for our livelihood, Stan?”

“No,” Stan said. “I don’t really care. I just want to play Fortnite.”

“We could be getting primo grade shit right now, Stan. Towelie went up there to check out the strains. Maple Leaf Kush is at our fingertips, and we can’t get to it!”

Randy went to the coat rack beside the door and put on his jacket and hemp hat.

Stan sighed. “Where are you going?”

“We’re just simple farmers from Colorado,” Randy said, zipping up his coat. “Home of the Denver Broncos and the best pot in America. Like hell I’m gonna let the government keep me from foreign marijuana - and you’re coming with me!”

“What?” Stan jumped off the couch, waving his hands. “No! No, no, no!””

“I don’t know, dude,” Kyle said. “Maybe we should help.”

“A bunch of hippies all at once?” Cartman snorted. “Why don’t you just Nagasaki them again, Kyle? Cuz I’ve been there, done that. So count me out. It’s not worth my time.” He stood up to leave.

“Mmmhmpf,” Kenny said, rising with Cartman.

“Seriously guys?” Stan asked.

“I’ll go with you,” Kyle said.

“I don’t want to go at all!”

Randy turned the TV off and picked up his car keys from the side table. “Then it’s settled. I’ll take you boys to the Canadian border, and drop Kenny and Eric off at home on the way.”

Stan sat in front beside his dad, sulking in silence. Kyle looked out the window pensively. And Kenny sat in the middle seat because he was the skinniest. He was squished against Cartman, who was complaining about the Spin Doctors CD Randy kept on repeat.

They got to Kenny’s house first, on the edge of town.

Cartman opened the door and clambered out. Kenny stepped out after him.

“Mmmffmng?” Kenny asked.

Cartman slammed the car door shut. “I’m not spending another fucking second in that vehicle. Even if it means staying at your house.”

Kenny’s brow furrowed. “Mffm hmfm?”

“Yes, I’m sure!”

Kenny shrugged.

He waved goodbye and walked inside, Cartman following.

Kenny pulled his hood down once he got past the threshold. Karen was the only one in the living room. She smiled at him from the floor, doing homework on the sheet of plywood held up by cinderblocks they called a coffee table.

He walked by and ruffled her hair. “Watcha doin?”

“Math,” she said. “I thought you were at Stan’s.”

“We were. But his dad is going to beat up some border cops or something for Canadian weed.”

“Oh.”

“Stan’s dad’s an idiot,” Cartman said from behind him.

Karen giggled, setting her pencil down. “Hi Cartman.”

Cartman stiffened at being adressed. “Uh, hey. You’re looking way older.”

“Don’t say that about my sister,” Kenny said.

“I didn’t mean it in a way,” Cartman said. “What grade are you in now?” he asked Karen.

“I’m a freshman,” she said. “You haven’t been around here awhile.”

“Yeah,” Kenny said.

“I’ve been busy,” Cartman said. He sat down next to Karen on the couch. “I’ve been saving the world. You know Kenny’s secret identity right?”

Karen smiled and ducked her head over the coffee table. She flipped her pencil around to erase part of an equation. “The princess or the superhero?”

“The superhero.” Cartman leaned back against the arm of the couch. “Well, I’m the Coon. You’ve probably heard all about me.”

“Not really.”

“Agh - nobody gets the recognition they deserve.”

Kenny shoved himself beside Cartman to separate the two of them. “Don’t listen to him,” he warned Karen. “He just likes running around and stealing my glory.”

“I do things,” Cartman said. “I saved the world from hippies. Except nobody gives a jackshit. Or they do, but the problem’s never over. Like you get rid of hippies somewhere, just so they can show up again some other place. So I’m done with that. The Coon is on vacation.”

“Our house isn’t much of a vacation,” Karen said.

“Sure it is, if I can play Fornite.”

Kenny wanted to end the conversation. “Where’s mom and dad?” he asked his sister.

“Mom is asleep,” Karen said, which meant she was coming off a bender. “Dad hasn’t been home since he left for work yesterday.” Which meant he was off on a bender.

“Great,” Kenny said. “Did you eat?”

“I’ve been doing this,” Karen said, gesturing to her homework. “I can’t get it right.”

“What can’t you get?” Cartman asked. He pushed Kenny away and leaned over Karen’s shoulder. “I’m good at math, trust me.”

Karen looked over her shoulder at Kenny for confirmation. Kenny just shrugged.

“I’m stuck on this algebra crap,” Karen said, turning back around.

“Oh, that’s easy,” Cartman said. “For real, I can do quantum mechanics in my sleep.” He picked up her pencil and looked at the problem she had just erased. “All you got is a few things in the wrong place.”

Kenny stood up. “I’m gonna make some mac and cheese.”

Their stove was broken, so he had to plug in the hot plate and get it hot enough to boil. With a pot of water slowly warming up, Kenny stood outside of the back door and smoked cigarettes. He usually smoked inside, but didn’t want Cartman seeing him do it, even if the scent of cigarette smoke clung to every surface.

He was three smokes in when a voice said behind him, “It’s stupid how people pay to get cancer.”

Kenny jumped and dropped his cigarette. “Shit, man!”

Cartman was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, a beer in his hand. “I stole a beer. Karen finished her homework.”

“Oh,” Kenny said. “Thanks, I guess. But don’t drink my dad’s beer.”

“He won’t notice,” Cartman said.

Cartman wasn’t wrong - somehow Cartman was always kind of right. Kenny put his cigarette out with the heel of his shoe.

“You’re boiling over,” Cartman said.

Kenny looked past him into the kitchen, then ran to lower the hot plate’s temperature. Steam fizzed off the plate in sweaty clouds. He stepped away, hair sticking to his red face, and pulled down two boxes of mac and cheese from the cabinet. Since he got a job cleaning the bathrooms at Tweak Bros. - and fetching their meth - the McCormick’s were living off more than just frozen waffles. He upended the noodles in the pot of water.

“Can I play Fornite yet?” Cartman asked.

“Yeah, whatever,” Kenny said. “It’s in my room.”

“I’ve wondered how you play. Finally got a TV in there?”  
  
“It’s small,” Kenny said, “but yeah. I bought it on sale.”

“Good for you,” Cartman said, and took a swig of Pabst Blue Ribbon. Then he walked away to Kenny’s bedroom.

Kenny stirred the pot, unsure of what to do with Cartman’s compliment. Once the mac and cheese was done he poured it into three styrafoam bowls, then put butter and garlic powder on cold bread, and brought a bowl out to Karen.

“Thanks,” she said, taking the bowl and bread to the coffee table.

“He didn’t fuck with you, did he?” Kenny asked.

“No,” Karen said. She rolled her eyes. “Cartman - Eric - he’s actually nice. I think that’s his real secret.”

“Well, he’s good at keeping it then,” Kenny said.

“I mean he’s nice when it matters. He likes it here.”

“I don’t see how,” Kenny said. “That’s crazy.”

Karen shrugged, and opened a paperback on her lap.

Kenny went to his room, opening the door with his foot. Cartman was on his bed, back against the wall, cursing at the TV with a controller in his hand.

“This screen is so puny, I can’t see shit,” Cartman said. “And you don’t have a headset or anything so I can’t yell at these assholes - FUCK! I died!” He exited back to the lobby, tossed the controller aside, and twisted around on the bed. “Where’s dinner, bitch?”

“Here,” Kenny said, striding across the carpet. Something about this was oddly domestic.

“What’s this,” Cartman said, picking up a piece of bread.

“It’s cheap garlic bread.”

Cartman took a bite. “That’s genius,” he said whilst chewing, then swallowed. “Needs more butter.”

“You want a whole stick of it?” Kenny asked, sitting beside him.

“A whole stick of something, sure,” Cartman said. “Oh, here.” He handed over a PBR from Kenny’s side table. “I got a couple more from the fridge while you were with Karen.”

“You’re buying me another case,” Kenny said. “My dad will come back and think it’s my mom’s fault and almost kill her or something.”

Cartman raised a brow. “Has that happened before?”

“Maybe.”

“They both should just fuck off. You and Karen obviously have this under control.”

“It’s not too bad,” Kenny muttered. He popped open the can of beer. “We never see them usually, anymore.”

“Whatever happened to your brother?”

“He got arrested for selling meth to the Tweaks. I had to take his old job - except I’m not fucking stupid about it.”

Cartman poked his mac and cheese around. “I didn’t know that was you.”

Kenny gestured around them. “This place was a meth lab half my life.”

Cartman paused, looking up from his bowl of food. “Your life is pretty much a joke to me,” he said. “But you really are a poor piece of shit, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“But you’re gonna change that, right? I mean - with the shitty TV and all?”

“I don’t know,” Kenny sighed, “if I can, I guess. Do we have to talk about this?”

“I’m inquisitive about your home life, so what? I haven’t been over in forever.”

“Whose fault is that?” Kenny asked.

“You don’t exactly invite me over.”

“And you know why I don’t.”

Cartman shrugged. “It’s not too bad anymore. No parents. I get to drink beer, eat food, play video games. And you’re here - I can actually stand you.” He scooped the rest of his mac and cheese onto the last piece of bread and ate it like a sandwich, then took Kenny’s PBR and washed the rest of it down.

“You hated it here when we were kids,” Kenny pointed out.

“I know what’s important to me now,” Cartman said. “I just want to play Fortnite - it doesn’t matter how. I’m more mature. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yes.”

“It’s probably as unlikely as you making money - but look at the two of us, huh?”

Kenny didn’t argue, just left his food on the floor unfinished and laid down next to Cartman’s leg.

“What are you doing, going to sleep?” Cartman asked.

“It’s my bed. I could if I want.” Kenny rolled onto his back. “But no.”

“Well are you gonna finish your food?”

“The rats will get to it.”

“That’s still a thing?”

“These ones have been around for awhile. I named them. They don’t come out with people here though - I mean I don’t think. I don’t bring people over a lot. Because of the rats.”

“What’s their names?”

“Ratty, Matty, and Patty.”

“Are you seriously?” Cartman laughed. “That’s so dumb.”

“It rhymes. It’s catchy.”

“Only fags like to rhyme.”

Kenny rolled his eyes. “Cartman, you’re literally the biggest fag in South Park.”

“Fuck you,” Cartman said, but it was only out of reflex and had no bite. “What about Craig and Tweek? They’re gay as hell.”

“But they aren’t being fags about it. That’s what I’m saying.”

Cartman didn’t reply. He just rolled over and tussled Kenny around. They proceeded to grapple at each other; Kenny swung a leg over Cartman’s wide girth, bracketed him with bony knees. Cartman swung his fist up and clipped Kenny in the chin. Kenny retaliated by headbutting him in the nose.

“Jesus Christ!” Cartman pushed Kenny away and sat up, holding his nose. “I’m bleeding,” he said. “You broke my fucking nose!”

“No, I didn’t,” Kenny said. “I just whacked you little bit. I didn’t break anything. If I wanted to break your nose, I would’ve.” He pried Cartman’s hands away to look at the trickle of blood. “You’re fine.”

Cartman tore his wrists from Kenny’s grip. “Don’t touch me,” he snapped. He stood, keeping his head craned back, going cross-eyed trying to look at himself. “God damn it. I wasn’t actually mad - you didn’t have to do that.”

“I didn’t do anything. You’re fine,” Kenny repeated. He was getting kind of nervous. “Sit back down, would you?”

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Cartman said. He returned with toilet paper shoved up each nostril, an extra roll in hand, and sat back down.

“Sorry,” Kenny muttered.

“Ugh,” Cartman groaned. His voice was all nasal. “You’re so stupid. Don’t say sorry. I would’ve forgiven you. But you apologized and made it worse. Now I’m over it.”

“You make no damn sense,” Kenny said.

“You know what else doesn’t make sense? Giving me a fucking nosebleed.”

“It was a mistake.”

“Your whole life is a mistake.”

“Shut up,” Kenny said.

“Oh, did I piss you off?”

“No, I’m serious, shut up.” Kenny leaned over the edge of the bed and pointed at his ajar closet door. “It’s Ratty and Matty.”

There were two rats in opposite shades of gray sniffing the air. A third rat, spotted brown, scurried out to join them. The trio ran toward the bed together, pawed at Kenny’s bowl of food until it tipped over, and began nibbling.

Cartman frowned, inching back. “They creep me out.”

“They’re cute and they’re my friends,” Kenny said. “I thought you were mature now and everything.”

“Are they attracted to the scent of blood?” Cartman asked. “Will they try and eat my face off?”

“They’re just rats,” Kenny said. “They like cheese and dead stuff. They’re harmless. See?” Kenny stretched his hand out and offered his fingertip to one of the gray rats. It inspected him, whiskers flickering, then went back to eating. Cartman was unimpressed.

**Author's Note:**

> a bit rushed because im in the middle of finals; more of a character study than anything, it isn't really supposed to make sense. and i just wanted to write a joke about border control. 
> 
> rest of the prompts will be filled with better quality - or so i hope. leave a comment, let me know what you think.


End file.
